Cowley and a Woman
by Sylvie Orp
Summary: Susan is coming to terms with her new father after Cry Wolf - and Bodie has a cunning plan
1. Chapter 1

It had not been a good few days for Cowley. Some ops you win; some you lose. But losing was always bitter. The Minister – never a fan of CI5 – was on Cowley's back and threatening to close down the whole operation. But Cowley, as always, fought his corner and supported his agents.

Bodie and Doyle knocked and entered their boss's lair. They saw him staring into the middle distance. His latest encounter with the Minister had gone badly. Bodie and Doyle stared at each other then Bodie gently tapped Doyle's arm and nodded towards the door. His friend responded in acknowledgement and silently left. He knew that if anyone could reach the Cow in his dark mood, then that man was William Bodie. Bodie though didn't share Doyle's optimism completely and wondered where to begin.

He started by clearing his throat. This too didn't get any reaction. He approached the desk cautiously and leaned on it, his head close to Cowley's. "How about a drink, sir?"

The Controller turned his bleak eyes to Bodie. He had always been closer to this young agent than any of them. He didn't know why. Perhaps he was the tearaways son that needed to be reined in occasionally. Perhaps he reminded him of himself at that age. But there was great mutual respect between them.

"Have you ever thought how bloody useless this all is? We can never defeat them you know. They'll always be there – the murderers, the racketeers, the pushers – and so it goes on in an endless cycle. Just what are we doing here, Bodie?"

"We all know that we can never win the war, sir. But we're the 'finger in the dike men'. We can't stop the waves crashing in, but if we can save some lives and property then it has to be worth it doesn't it?" Bodie was challenging him.

"Aye," Cowley sighed. "I suppose you're right. But it can get so hard, so bloody hard." He slammed his palms on the desk in frustration and defeat.

"Do you think a whisky might help?"

Cowley looked into the twinkling eyes of his agent. He knew he was being chided, cuddled, cared for in Bodie's own strange way. He had to meet him halfway. "Aye, if you're paying!" the Cow said, reluctantly getting up and stretching his legs. Bodie took the coat off the peg before he changed his mind, and opened the door for him with a semi bow.

The whisky had turned into dinner which turned to a long chat lasting into the early morning. Bodie thought – just thought – that he might have won the old man round this time. But how many more times would he have to scrape Cowley's dark mood off the carpet?

Bodie was discreet, and Doyle would certainly not question him on his conversations with the boss. That was between the two of them. Bodie had worked his magic again, and that was enough for Doyle – enough for all of them. Cowley's depression affected his men and women. The agents went for a drink the following evening.

Not wanting to give too much away of his chat with the boss, Bodie sent out a feeler. "I think the Cow needs a holiday, and a woman."

Doyle laughed heartily. The exercise did his mood the world of good. "In that order?"

Bodie shrugged. "I think the weight of it all is getting him down."

They both didn't want to acknowledge that Cowley was not a young man, and the burden of responsibility was bound to get to him.

Doyle, as usual, tackled the problem head-on. "Do you think he'd retire?" he asked softly. It wasn't a question either of them wanted to consider.

Bodie shrugged honestly, drawing on his beer to play for time. "He'll have to at some point. But I don't think it's come to that yet, Ray. But if I were to suggest a holiday he'd think I meant a permanent one – the way he is at the moment."

"I doubt if he'd listen to common-sense anyway," Doyle added. They lapsed into silence, both lost in their own thoughts. After a while Doyle sighed, coming out of his reverie. "So if he won't consider a holiday, then your plan B."

Bodie looked confused. Doyle continued, "Cowley and a woman!" They both chuckled for some time. Doyle continued his theory. "There was that bird, the one with the wool and the drawing pins. The one you were hired to blow to kingdom come."

Bodie thought back to that strange operation. "She lives away out in the country, Ray. I can't see Cowley going up there for a bit of you know what every weekend!"

They chuckled again. Doyle knew that Bodie had a point. Then he had another thought. "Well, why don't you re-acquaint yourself with the lovely Susan?"

Bodie searched vainly in his mental 'little black book' under S. "Who do you mean?"

"You know that bit of stuff you fancied? We were to babysit her. You know, the poor little rich kid with too much time on her hands and doing all that charity stuff? I had to rescue her – and you too if I remember right." Doyle was grinning broadly. He enjoyed getting one over on Bodie.

His partner ignored the jibe. "If you mean Susan Grant, she's far too young for the Cow."

"No! I meant her mother – the one with the huge pile not far from London. That's a bit closer for the Cow to get his knees under the table. I remember seeing the twinkle in her eye when she clapped eyes on Cowley. I think there is a bit of a story there." Doyle winked knowingly.

"You're just an old romantic, Doyle. Besides, Susan still has to get her head round the fact that her colleague is in fact her old pappy."

"That's easily six months ago, Bodie. You mean you haven't looked her up since then? I thought you two were going somewhere."

"In your dreams, Doyle. As you said, we were there to babysit. Nothing doing," Bodie added forcefully.

He didn't want it known that he had, in fact, been getting very close to Susan indeed. But the revelation about her father had come as such a shock to her that Bodie had decided to give her the space she needed to come to terms with that. And it had never seemed the right moment to open up the friendship since then. Would she still see it as him babysitting her; keeping an eye on her? And, if he were honest with himself, her rich lifestyle was off-putting to say the least. No matter how much CI5 paid him, he could never keep her in the style to which she was accustomed. No, there was another door best left closed. He remembered with pain that Barry Martin had gone over to the 'dark side' to keep pace with a rich girlfriend. That would never happen to him. Bodie would stay loyal to the Cow come what may. He glanced over to his partner and saw that he was being scrutinised over his beer. Bodie sometimes thought that Doyle could see straight through into his brain – and into his heart. But his friend may – just may – be right in that some female company maybe just what Cowley needed; someone to share the burden. And the only way to Mrs Grant was through Susan – – –


	2. Chapter 2

Bodie had every courage on the battlefield but, when it came to women, he sometimes baulked at the idea of getting that close. He was good at walking away unencumbered. He gave a lot of thought to Susan, now that Doyle had lodged that particular bur in his brain. Each time he reached for the phone, he withdrew. She was a young, independent, beautiful woman. She probably had a string of boyfriends queuing up - and not all of them 'Hurray Henries'. He couldn't see how he could fit in her life.

As he lay in the bath that evening, about a week after his conversation with Doyle about Cowley and a woman (that still made him chuckle), he went back to the beginning; what had prompted their chat? Yes, the female factor. It was still possible with a little cunning.

On a day off, he took a deep breath and drove round to the substantial Grant residence and rang the bell. If mother wasn't in, he'd just try again. There were footsteps, then a rattle of chains and keys and finally the door was open. Some part of him wanted the person on the other side of the door to be Susan but it was, indeed, her mother, Margaret. It took less than a second before she recognised the handsome man stood unexpectedly on her doorstep looking very embarrassed. She beamed happily.

"This is a lovely surprise. Do come in Mr Bodie!" She opened the door wide.

"Is Susan home?"

She felt somehow deflated that that was the reason for his call. "No she's out for the day with her father."

She led him into the sitting room. It was flooded with light, and alive with cut flowers and potted plants. All just as he remembered.

"Well it was you I came to see actually," he started off, trying to block off any latent disappointment at not seeing Susan.

"Oh, how can I help? Sorry, would you like a drink Mr Bodie?"

"A bit early for me."

"Tea?"

She seemed to be stalling for time and he accepted. He'd forgotten that they had a maid and she was duly summoned and the order put in. Margaret turned an expectant face to her guest. He hadn't got over his embarrassment and she was curious as to its cause. She wondered if he were going to be very old-fashioned and ask if he could date her daughter. But she waited patiently.

"It's about Major Cowley," he started off, and wasn't sure how to carry on. He was staring intently at the carpet.

From his manner, she could tell that it wasn't bad news. She waited. Then the maid came in with the refreshments. After a brief hiatus, they settled down again.

"Well, he's a bit reluctant to come forward, which is why he sent me. I think you and he go back quite a way." He was fishing and she knew it.

"He was more Anthony's friend than mine, Mr Bodie. But he was always welcome here, even after Anthony died." Her eyes strayed to the wedding photo taking pride of place on the piano.

"It's just 'Bodie'", he corrected gently, finally reaching her eyes.

She smiled encouragingly and waited for him to get to the point. She was surprised at reticence from a hard man such as this.

"Well, since he came into this caper - sorry, er, assignment - you know, to look after Susan when she was threatened," he coughed dryly. "Well, he was wondering whether you would like to meet him. You know, socially, I mean." Bodie should have rehearsed this much better, but he ploughed on, hoping that Susan or the maid weren't going to arrive before he got to the end. "I know it's been a while since you last met, but he's mentioned about seeing you more than once." Bodie was at least a good liar even if he was a lousy go-between. He looked at her expectantly, hoping he didn't have to drone on any further.

Margaret looked surprised, as well she might. It had been over six months since the assignment - or 'caper' as Bodie saw it. Nothing to do with Susan at all.

"Well, that's very kind Bodie." She fiddled with her pearl necklace. Her eyes darting this way and that as though looking for a way out.

"If you need time to think about it, or just tell me it's a bad idea, that's ok. He can take bad news!" Bodie was now just anxious to get the hell out of here. He couldn't remember when he was last so embarrassed.

"No, no, I er think it a good idea. What did you - or the Major - have in mind?"

Bodie was relieved that this wasn't going to be strung out. "Well, I - er, he - was thinking of meeting for dinner at Cryer's at, say, 8 o'clock on Friday. If that's not too soon." Cryer's was a very popular and upmarket restaurant. Bodie had found difficulty in booking a table there in the hope and expectation that Mrs Grant would take the bait.

Margaret got up (Bodie noticed how elegant she was) and consulted her diary. "That would be perfect, Bodie."

Bodie got up too before Margaret sat back down again. He didn't want to stay much longer. He was anxious that Susan didn't turn up. He didn't know how he'd react to her after all this time. He knew, though, that it would seem odd if he didn't at least mention her. He may even pick up some news.

"How's Susan?" He tried to make it seem natural, but his throat contracted. Mrs Grant heard it and chose to ignore it.

"It's been a difficult time for her, as you can imagine Bodie. The person she'd worked along side all this time being her actual father. She and I had to have a long heart-to-heart as she blamed me for not telling her sooner. And, of course, if I had none of this would have happened."

"I hope she has forgiven you, Mrs Grant. You were only protecting her."

"Yes, but that led her to harm."

"Well it's all out in the open now. No more secrets."

"Yes, and she's very forgiving. A beautiful girl. We're alright now."

"I'm glad to hear it."

He was led to the door and drove thoughtfully away. Just what had he done?


	3. Chapter 3

Bodie mentioned to the Old Man on the Thursday that a contact wanted a 'wee chat'. The name of the contact was well known to them both.

"Cryer's?" Cowley snorted when Bodie gave him the details. "I hope that he's paying!"

Bodie grinned broadly. "It sounded as though it's going to be worth it, sir."

Cowley sighed. "Cryer's it is then."

Bodie grinned all the way home.

Mrs Grant turned up at the allotted time and place. George Cowley turned up at the allotted time and place. After a while, Cowley checked his watch.

"It should be about time now, don't you think?"

His guest agreed with a silent nod and got out her mobile phone. (She was a very modern woman.)

"Bodie?"

"Yes, Mrs Grant," Bodie gasped, having climbed swiftly out of the bath to answer the phone.

"George hasn't turned up. I've been waiting for ages in the wine bar of Cryer's as you said. I've been getting very funny looks from the men; one in particular. I don't want to leave here on my own in case he follows me. Can you pick me up? I'm sorry to ask."

She sounded very anxious. "Yes, yes, of course. I'm really sorry. Perhaps something turned up." Something was always turning up in CI5's world. It looked like his blind date strategy was going south. "I'll come straight away." Damn!

He hung up and dressed in double quick time. Margaret was indeed sat on her own looking lost and alone in the wine bar. It wasn't just the guests looking askance, the staff seemed to be wondering about her too. A woman on her on in a posh restaurant?

"Look I'm sorry Mrs Grant," Bodie started off as soon as he arrived. He noticed that she'd been making inroads on the wine. "Shall we go?" Bodie cast an eye round the bar and restaurant wondering who was making a particular nuisance of himself.

As Mrs Grant rose, a man came forward from the shadows. Bodie's jaw fell to the floor.

"I think I can sort out my own love life, Bodie, but thank you for the tip."

Bodie turned from one to the other. Cowley grinned from ear to ear. Mrs Grant looked bashful. He'd been had. Before he could say anything, Cowley shepherded them into the restaurant proper.

"There's the table," Cowley started off. Bodie was distressed that he was going to have to share a very embarrassing evening, with the Cow and Mrs Grant both looking as smug as cats. But, as they were nearing the table, the maître d' heaved into view.

"Your table, Mr Bodie."

Bodie threw a quizzical look at Cowley before he was led away. "Margaret and I have been seeing each other for some time, Bodie, and we'd prefer not to have a nursemaid making a threesome."

Bodie looked at Mrs Grant. "Sorry, Bodie," she said, smiling broadly. "It was too good an opportunity to miss!"

Bodie wasn't sure how he felt about it all. He'd been had good and proper. They'd turned the tables on him. The waiter led him across to a corner table. He found that it was already occupied. He saw the back of a head and a wine glass being lifted by an elegant female hand. As he came round to see who the hand belonged to, Susan got up and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"It's been too long, Bodie. Do sit down and join me."


End file.
